Come Back
by CrazySuperHeroine
Summary: 'I began to loathe myself and avoided contact with anyone for fear that, secretly, they too despised my very being. After all, who would want anything to do with a know-it-all smartass who was a closet self-harmer' Request by swagUPwindowsDOWN! :3


**A/N: Warning, sad. Nothing graphic, just a little sad (I guess). :3 Rated K+ for attempted suicide & the SLIGHTEST description of cutting. **

My eyes stung and began watering as they fluttered open, adjusting to the bright light that illuminated my shared bedroom. I sighed and cringed as I rolled over to my side, closing my eyes again while frowning at the constant beeping echoing in the silence. I mentally cursed my roommate for his bad taste in alarm tones. The noise became louder and slower, almost like the impeccable sound of a heart rate monitor.

_Wait a second_…

With a jerk, I sat up abruptly, taking a moment to fully register that I was no longer under the safe confinement of my blanket and that my muscles and joints were aching. The scent of medicine, blood and pain lingered in the air, like a veil trapping my body in a small bubble and cutting off the oxygen supply to my lungs. With a choked gasp, I gripped onto the metal railings raised at the side of my bed until my knuckles turned white, trying to get as much air into my system as possible. The barrier prevented me from moving freely, much less to slide off the mattress so I could get off.

Not like I could move, anyway.

Thin, see-through tubes with needles were pierced into the veins on the underside of my arms and a little white clip was clasped on my index finger as well as a patch on my chest. A cluster of machines stood next to me, one of them with constantly fluctuating red lines while others ranged from IV drips to a pulse oximeter, each creating a specific sound of its own.

I looked down at my arms to unplug myself from the machines, only to be confused when I couldn't see any of the tubes on me. My eyebrows furrowed as I twisted and turned my arms, searching for any trace of being dependant on the IV, before moving on to search for the wire that should be connected to a patch over my heart.

Instead, my fingers came in contact with my own cold, pale skin with no indication of a heartbeat or body heat coming from beneath my flesh.

My hands moved over my lips to check my breathing- seeing as how I didn't have a beating heart to ensure that I was still alive- but paused when I realised I didn't have an oxygen mask on either. My heart plummeted with each passing second whereby air didn't brush against my fingers, confirming my deepest fear.

I'm not breathing. I have no pulse. Realistically, I shouldn't even be able to move.

Theoretically, I'm _dead_.

Scared and panicking, I whipped my head around to look for the button to call in a nurse to question on why the monitors are still detecting my heart rate and blood pressure when I'm not attached to them, except the sight that I met with made the blood in my veins run cold.

Laid beneath me was a complete replica of myself; bluish veins apparent on his closed eyelids, the hollows of his cheeks defining his sharp cheekbones, his usually pale skin now a sickly shade of pasty white and brown hair matted on his forehead. With each deep breath the comatose boy took, the oxygen mask strapped over his cracked lips misted over and his bandaged arms, crossed over on his small chest, rose and lowered gingerly, as though he was completely at peace and unaware of the outside world while I was in disarray and utter disbelief, unable to come to terms with what was happening.

I leapt off the bed- still slightly wobbly from being bedridden for God knows how long-, ready to be surprised by another prank by my non-related blood brothers, but was left dumbfounded when, not only did I pass through the barriers like I had no physical mass, my feet didn't even touch the floor.

A thudding in my head began instantly, compressing my brain and preventing my ability to think rationally. A pained, keening whine escaped my throat as I curled into a ball, my fingers tugging at my hair as I tried to stop my mind from exploding.

_Why is this happening to me? Why am I in a hospital? Why can't I remember_anything_?_ Question after question went through my thoughts, all bringing forth bits and pieces of the last thing I was able to recall; flashes of red seeping into the comforter of my bed, the sting as big, fat tears rolled off my palms and over my bloodied wrists.

I wept loudly as I curled myself up into a ball, hoping that by tensing my muscles, I could stop the excruciating affliction spreading across my chest that began to multiply with each forced intake of breath.

The scene immediately jumped from the darkness of my bedroom to an open ocean, the late night breeze caressing my damp cheeks in an almost loving gesture as I focused on the full moon that seemed to be sneering at me while it watched me stand dangerously close to the edge of a cliff. The roughness of the ground dug into my bare feet, leaving behind scars that would scab over and fade in a few weeks; weeks I did not wish to have.

Waves crashed against the rocks beneath me; the force giving a concaved shape to the dirt pile I stood on.

In the blink of an eye, I felt myself falling, my mind blank after I took the last precarious step off the steep rock surface. The roar of the current filled my ears before I was submerged, plunged under water by the forceful push of gravity. I struggled, flailing my arms and legs, and my lips parted when the urge for air became too much, causing salty liquid to invade every single one of my orifices.

The stabbing pain in my heart intensified as my lungs were filled with seawater. My head felt heavy and, with each movement I made, I felt my resolve slip out of my grasp. I was slipping away and I knew it.

I knew the feeling of my soul being pulled out of my physical body all too well. After all, wasn't death what I wanted? Didn't I wish to disappear off the face of the Earth since my sixteenth birthday? Or was it when _she_ abandoned me and crushed my hopes and dreams? Perhaps it was when Gustavo became meaner with each passing session. I can't even remember when I started feeling so worthless and pathetic.

Maybe I've felt that way since the beginning of my teenage years. Whenever the negative thoughts began, it didn't matter. It was about to end.

With that thought in mind, I stopped trying to swim up to the surface and opted to allow my body to sink further into the dark abyss. As my eyes became heavier, I allowed them to slowly fall shut, the shaky whiteness of the moon and stars the last thing I see before everything turned to black.

"_Hey, buddy_." With a startled gasp, I rose to my feet, focused on the blurry silhouette of three people standing next to where my body laid. My vision slowly cleared up, finally giving more details to the three visitors in my hospital room; a tall, toned brunette, an equally lanky blonde and a short, muscly Hispanic. All of them had puffy red eyes and frowns as they stood quietly, unable to mask their guilt and shame. Only the brunette spoke, his voice soft and gentle, while he held my hand in a tight grip. The blonde stood opposite him, holding on to my other hand while his physique trembled. The other tanned boy, however, stood by the foot of the bed with his head hung low, lips quivering as soft sobs reached my ears. "How are you feeling? How's things in your little dreamland?"

I looked back at the brown-haired teen, taking a few steps forward to get a better view of my visitors. As curious as I was on why they were so affected by my suicide attempt, I couldn't help but feel remorseful for causing them this much agony. It was also taking me a ridiculous amount of time to recognise them, even though a part of me was screaming that they were important to me.

"James, he's in a _coma_. He can't- he can't talk to us."

James, the brunette with a surprisingly pretty mix of brown and speckled green eyes, scowled at his best friend. "Doesn't mean he can't hear me, _Kendall_," he countered, his glare as threatening as a set of knives. However, the menacing look was immediately replaced with a worried frown. "It's been nearly a month since his attempt. Shouldn't he have awaken by now?"

_Ahh, yeah, James, Kendall and_, I thought, a small smile on my lips as the recognition washed over me. My gaze landed on the broken tanned boy who had been silent since entering the room, taking a few more seconds to place a name to his face. _Carlos! My brothers!_

"I just wish I realised how much he was struggling," a whisper came from Carlos, who finally looked up with tears in his eyes. "I've been rooming with him since we came to LA and I've never noticed how depressed he was. I could've- could've saved him, stop him. I could've prevented this!"

Instinctively, I walked over to my roommate with my arms wide open, intending to give him a bear hug and a few encouraging words, just like what I would do whenever he comes to my side upset over anything; be it the insults Gustavo throws at him from time to time or the rejection from the Jennifers, _again_. For a moment, I forgot I was merely a presence within these walls, where my physical body was not in my control. My arms passed through Carlos' body effortlessly, leaving behind a faded white trail.

I gaped at my hands before guilt chilled me to the bones, as I looked at the forlorn expressions on my best friends' faces. I'm a ghost. I can't comfort him now. And, this time, I'm the cause of his pain. For _their_ pain. _Oh, what have I done_?

"Carlos," Kendall sighed exasperatedly, as though they've had the conversation far too often, but released the cold hand he held onto to pull his sobbing friend into a tight hug. His bottle green eyes were shut as he gulped and tightened his grip; the blonde was losing his composure, it was obvious, and he knew that, if he cracked as well, all of them would be engulfed with negativity. He was pretty sure I didn't need to '_hear_' that pressure or I'll never come back. For once in my lifetime, I realised that all three of them looked absolutely lost and… And _destroyed_.

"It's not just your fault, 'Litos." James lifted his head and stared at his crumbling brothers with despair. His hazel eyes looked tired, but the tone of his voice was laced with forced determination. "We were all living under the same roof but none of us realised Logan's tussle with his depression. It took him jumping off a cliff for us to realise it. It's not your fault completely, okay? It's mine, too. We just have to hope that he wakes up so we can all make amends for our ignorance."

Silence. I floated over to the side of my bed, frowning at myself looking extremely vulnerable and cowardly on the bed, with no signs of waking up because I wasn't one with the empty container which was my body. What was I thinking, attempting suicide? I could hear Carlos sniffling into Kendall's shoulder while the green-eyed leader patted his back comfortingly. "I wish you told us, Loges," the hazel-eyed brunette spoke lowly, his grip on my hand taut and shaky. His muscles bulged as he rested his elbows on the mattress, body bent over. His brown locks fell forward, covering his face. "We would've been there for you; you're one of us, after all! I mean, we should've noticed how you started moping and locking yourself up in your room after Camille left Palm Woods and got hitched, or how you started wearing long sleeves no matter the weather and the look of utter dejection whenever you think no one's looking. Those were _huge_ signs."

_Camille's the reason I pushed myself over the edge? Wait, she's married?!_ Immediately after the revelation dawned on me, it was as though a floodgate was finally open.

Camille breaking up with me for the last time before she decided to elope with another actor she had been seeing behind my back, the evil thoughts that filled my head afterwards; telling me I was weak and pathetic, that I deserved to have been cheated on.

I began to loathe myself and avoided contact with _anyone_ for fear that, secretly, they too despised my very being. After all, who would want anything to do with a know-it-all smartass who was a closet self-harmer?

"It's my fault, isn't it? I noticed but I didn't say anything. I thought, you know, you being the genius amongst us and all; that you'd know when to look for aid before you snapped." James' breath began to hitch as he resisted the urge to cry and stain my skin with his tears, the pain in his voice attracting my attention. I bit my lower lip, holding my fists to my chest as I silently cursed myself.

_I'm so sorry, James._

"Come back to us, Logan," the brunette whispered. "_Please_. If Kendall and I's pleas aren't enough, then do it for Carlos. Fight for him, Loge. He needs you."

_I don't know if I can. I don't know if I want to._ I nearly smacked myself for that one pessimistic notion. _No! I_need_to return to the real world. I_need_to return to my body._

I flopped onto the bed, deep in thought until I was unaware of how the empty vessel was still allowing my soul's re-entry, how it was softly sucking me in. I needed to get back to them, to tell them I'm sorry for making them worry and that I'm going to stop acting the way I did. I don't want to leave them. A gentle hum distracted me from the events going on around me.

I had to find a way back.

Voices became distant and the sound of footsteps leaving the room barely registered in my mind. I wanted to return to my family, no matter the problems I would face again, I don't care. A bright light shone down on me from the ceiling, revealing a silhouette of a man.

'_Do you wish to return to the land of the living?'_ his gruff voice said, almost scaring me out of my wits. I flew off the bed and cocked my head at it, confused as to what he was offering me.

Reluctantly, I nodded.

_'The choice is yours, Logan Mitchell_,' the echoing voice said. '_Return to the real world, to your family and friends. But face the possibility of suffering under the torment of your demons. Or follow the illuminated path before you, leaving behind everything you've grown to love and know, and finally put an end to the voices in your head._'

My eyes shifted from the slouched form of Carlos at the side of my bed, who had refused to leave even after the nurse came in to inform them that visiting hours was over and proceeded to sob into the mattress to release his pent up emotions, to the bright light in front of me, who was giving me a second chance at what I was gifted with. A second chance at life. Did I want it, however? Do I want to feel that immense pain again?

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, looking towards the white figure firmly. "I've made my decision."

* * *

><p>The beeping in the room quickened slightly and his brown eyes fluttered open, followed by a low groan of pain, his arms stretching in front of him. With a croak, the bedridden boy- while patting his friend's hair lovingly- whispered, "Don't cry, Carlos."<p>

The Hispanic's head shot up and his deep brown eyes sparkled with relief. "L-Logie! Logie!" he squeaked, jumping onto the bed with the brunette and wrapping his arms around the small boy's waist, completely oblivious to the boy's short wince. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Urk!- It's okay, Carlitos." Logan smiled, returning the constricting hug with a gentler one, nodding along to the Latino's words while the feeling of utter relief took over the upsetting ones. He was given another opportunity, and he was going to use it to make things right. "I'm sorry, too."

**A/N: Hi! Thank you for reading & I hope you enjoyed this little fic that was a request by swagUPwindowsDOWN, who asked for an angsty fic with Logan in a hospital over an incident.**

**As you guys probably know, angst/tragedy isn't really my genre. But, hey, a request is a request. My duty is to fulfil it with my fullest potential & pray that Sarah liked this enough & would continue talking to me xD**

**So, I hope you liked how your request turned out, Sarah! *insert heart shape here bc ff doesn't let it***

**Thanks, too, to my cousin who agreed to betaread this for me. I've been having self-esteem issues & it's been too long since I last updated so … I doubted my abilities.**

**Buuuut, I tried.**

**Read, review & favourite! :D**


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